


he's sure the boy i love

by twohourstraffic



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Asexuality, Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Relationship, Sickfic, Slice of Life, The Haus, i promise they're not outed, jack is a whingy baby when he's sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twohourstraffic/pseuds/twohourstraffic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times that the team had no idea Jack and Bitty were dating, and the one time they were let in on the secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he's sure the boy i love

**i. chowder**

One thing that Bitty would never guessed, back when Jack was still his terrifying captain, was that he was miserable when he was sick.

Worse than that, Jack was one of those patients that wanted everyone to know that he was sick. In excruciating detail.

“The doctor says I’ve got mumps,” Jack moans down the phone. “Apparently I was supposed to get a booster at some point, but I didn’t, and now I’ve got to take at least a week off work and everything _hurts_ , Bits.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“And it’s a virus so I can’t take anything for it except, you know, pain killers, and my face is all swollen and it hurts to chew and I’m so tired and my head hurts and I _hate being sick._ ”

“I know you do, honey, and it sucks, but I think you need to just –”

“And I tried to watch something on Netflix but it was too bright and too loud and it made everything hurt so I had to turn it off, and I can’t do anything, I can’t even go work out because it hurts to _walk_. I can’t even imagine lifting a weight or anything, I think my face would probably explode.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack. That sounds awful.”

Jack continues as if Bitty hadn’t said anything. “And apparently it could take two weeks to get better, and not only can I not go to work, I can’t go anywhere near my teammates in case I infect _them_. So I’m just stuck here and I can’t watch TV and I can’t read because it hurts my head to concentrate so hard, and it hurts to chew and it hurts to swallow so I can’t really eat or drink and –” He peters off into pathetic silence.

Bitty gives himself three seconds to find his zen. “Jack, baby, I’m not sure what you want me to do. I can be there late tomorrow afternoon if you need me, I’m pretty sure I’m up to date with my vaccinations.”

“But if you’re not, I’ll infect you and then you’ll be in the _worst pain of your life_ , and I can’t do that to you, Bits, I just can’t.”

Bitty breathes in and out. “Do you want me to come down, Jack?”

“Yes, please,” comes Jack’s whisper.

Bitty smiles to himself, because his boyfriend is ridiculous and it’s adorable. “Go sleep, honey. I’ll talk to you later, OK?”

Jack sniffs, then groans in pain. “OK. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jack.”

The next afternoon, Bitty is almost ready to go. He’s made two kinds of cookies, sponge cake, a pea soup which Alicia had recommended, mashed potatoes and there’s now chilli on the stove. He’s going to feed Jack back to health if it’s the last thing he does. He packs food into a cool bag for the train trip to Providence, then sits at the table to check his phone.

The front door opens and then slams. Bitty hears someone running upstairs, then the familiar thud of a backpack being thrown against a wall. Footsteps come back down the stairs and Chowder appears in the kitchen.

“Hi Bitty! Oh my gosh, you should have heard what people were saying in my class today. You know the Gen Pol one that Shitty recommended? We had to get into groups and talk about different sexualities that we knew about, and I was talking about asexuality because, you know, my sister is ace, and this dudebro kept saying that it doesn’t exist? So I was trying to defend myself, calmly, but he was saying the rudest things and I got really angry and almost got kicked out of class.”

Bitty wheels around and slaps the air in front of Chowder’s face gently. “Christopher Chow, please tell me that you’re exaggerating.”

Chowder’s usual smile droops slightly, but he doesn’t look apologetic. “They were talking shit, Bitty. I wasn’t going to let it go.”

“I know, and I’m proud of you. Shitty would be, too – you should text him and tell him you’ve been maintaining his legacy. But please try not to get kicked out of any of your classes? You have to learn to pick your battles, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but I picked this one.”

A few minutes later, Chowder’s smile hasn’t totally returned so Bitty hands him a cookie and ruffles his hair as he walks away. He grins, and Bitty knows he’s forgiven. He goes over to the stove, pulls the lid off the pot, and tastes its bubbling contents. He pulls a face, adds some more cumin and covers it again.

“Ooh, what are you making? It smells so good!”

“Just some chilli. Jack’s sick, which means he’s a bit useless, the poor thing. I’m going to go visit for a few days to look after him, bring him some food.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! Ooh, whenever I get sick, my mom always makes me this really good ginger chicken soup. I can ask her for the recipe, if you want? It’s kind of spicy and makes your throat numb, which is sort of freaky, but it’s delicious. Or maybe he doesn’t feel like soup. What sort of sick is he?”

Bitty grimaces. “He’s got mumps. It’s this really gross disease where you get all swollen and stuff. You can’t really chew or swallow, so soup would be awesome.”

“I’ll text her now. She might not get back in time, but maybe you can take the recipe to Providence and cook it there. I bet they have better grocery stores. You might even be able to find a Chinese one, get the proper ingredients! Ooh, I wonder if Mom can take pictures of all of the stuff she uses, so you get the real Chow experience. Although she was a Tsang before she got married and it’s her mom’s recipe, so it’s the Tsang experience, I guess.”

Bitty smiles. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that, sweetheart. I’m sure I can make something up if your mom can’t get the recipe easily. Ginger and chicken?”

“Yeah, and I think there’s chili and leek and stuff. Or maybe it’s celery? I’ve never paid that much attention, it’s so good that I normally just eat it.”

“I’ll see what I can do. He’s so miserable that I’m sure he’d appreciate a bottle of water, but I hope all of this will help.”

Chowder sits down at the table and pulls a face. “You’re such a good friend, Bitty. I hate it when people are sick – I try and get as far away as possible. Once my sister got chicken pox and I slept on my friend’s floor for, like, two weeks. I guess I’d do my best if Caitlin got sick, but you’re so nice to everyone! You’re going go visit Jack with food and stuff, and you’re not even dating him _a little bit_.”

Bitty curses his cheeks for blushing and does his best to smile at Chowder. “I just like to take care of the people that are important to me.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“You know it is, honey. Now go and do your homework.”

* * *

 **ii.** **ransom**

Any conversation which starts with Ransom and Holster barreling into Bitty’s room, closing his door behind them and staring at him is probably not going to be a conversation he wants to have.

This is even more true if the thing out of Ransom’s mouth is, “OK, so.”

“What’s going on, boys?” Bitty’s not sure that he wants to know, but he asks anyway. Just to be polite.

The two of them break into matching, almost shark-like grins. Bitty is temporarily distracted, not for the first time, by how white their teeth are.

“Do you know what time of the year it is?”

Bitty hastily wracks his memory for a missed birthday, but Shitty’s isn’t for a few weeks yet. “Um … Christmas?” They had spent the previous weekend decorating the plastic tree from the basement, even though Holster had put up his annual protest that it wasn’t truly Christmas without the smell of pine. Lardo had gone up to her room and come back with a car freshener, and that was the end of that.

“What season does Christmas fall in?”

Bitty feels like this is a trick question. “Winter?” Then he freezes. “Wait, is this about Screw?”

Their devious smiles get wider.

“Guys, I don’t even know if I’m going this year. And I just assumed I’d go stag if I did.”

“Bitty. _Eric_ , if I may,” Holster says with a grin. We’re going to find you the perfect date if it’s the last thing we do. You’re going to have the fucking greatest time and we’ll be happy, knowing you’re happy. Everyone wins. You still good with a rugby dude?”

“As opposed to, what? _Crew_? Obviously.” Bitty freezes. “But this is all hypothetical, of course. Because I’m really fine.”

“Kid, this isn’t about _fine_. This is about amazing. This is about giving you the best Screw in the history of Screws. And I know how that sounds. Safe sex is good sex.”

Bitty covers his face with his hands, blushing a vibrant shade of red. “Oh my God, shut _up_. And you really don’t have to do that.”

“Of course we do,” Ransom crows, pulling Bitty’s hands away so he can hug him tightly.

Holster is looking at Ransom like he’s broken his heart. “Bro. You had a Wicked line set up for you and you didn’t take it.”

“I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, at the beginning of ‘Popular’? When Elphaba says, ‘You really don’t have to do that,’ and Glinda replies, ‘I know, that’s what makes me so nice’? Bitty said it perfectly, too. It’s on the fucking soundtrack, Rans. Come on.”

Ransom looks heartbroken. “Oh my God, you’re right. Fuck.”

Bitty grabs this diversion with both hands. “Do you want me to say it again? I could say it again.”

“Thanks, Bits, but the moment’s passed. Thanks, _Justin_.”

Ransom turns to his partner in crime and grabs his hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Holtzy. Next time, yeah?”

“You’d fuckin’ better.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two appear to have forgotten why they’re in Bitty’s room. Bitty takes the opportunity to stand up and start folding laundry. It’s entirely possible that they will drop this topic and move the fuck on, and he’s sending up a silent prayer when Ransom starts laying on the guilt trip.

“Anyway, it’s our final year. We _owe_ it to you, as your captains and your friends. We’ve found you two excellent Screw dates but you haven’t hit it off with either of them. So it’s our last chance to find you eternal love and happiness before we drift off into the real world. Or, as I like to call it, postgraduate study.”

Holster, clearly sensing that Bitty is about to protest vehemently, breaks in gently. “It doesn’t have to be your soulmate. Don’t you want us to find you someone that you can talk to for the night? It’s _tradition_ , Bits.”

“You love talking and dancing!” Ransom takes over. “Come on, Bits, it’ll be fun.”

Bitty knows that he can’t get away with the old ‘I have a boyfriend’ excuse. Even if it’s true.

Especially because it’s true.

If he tells them he has a boyfriend that they don’t know, they won’t let it go. If he tells them that he has a boyfriend that they know, they won’t let him sleep until they’ve guessed it.

There was once a Haus trivia tournament with a strict No Internet policy, and Holster found a Yellow Pages to phone the White House for an answer when he disagreed with the one given.

“Come on, Bits,” Ransom pushes. “We all know you’re single. Who’s going to mind if you go to Screw with someone? Lardo? Shitty? _Jack_?”

Holster snorts. “I know you guys talk all the time but I’m pretty sure even Jack can survive without you for one night.”

“I’ll think about it, OK? No guarantees, but I’ll think about it.”

“You won’t regret this!” Holster crows as he picks Bitty up and spins him around the room.

“Get – off – me!” Each syllable is punctuated with a half-hearted slap to Holster’s back. “Oh my God, Holster! _Lardo_! Save me!”

Bitty’s door opens and Lardo walks calmly into the room. She takes one look at the scene and puts a hand on her hip. “Holtzy, put him down. Now.”

Even the captains of the team know that Lardo’s word is law. It almost seems like a conditioned response, the speed that Bitty finds himself standing on his own two feet again.

“Out. Now. He’s said he’ll think about it.”

“But, Lardo –”

“Bits, do you have anything more to say on this topic?”

Bitty snorts, still straightening his crumpled shirt. “I think they’ve got the picture.”

“Excellent. Now, guys, I want to talk to Bitty for a second. Can we have the room?”

They wander back into the corridor good-naturedly and towards the stairs, Holster calling behind him, “We’re going to find you the best fuckin’ date, Bits. I’ve already got a shortlist going. Rans, what do you think about Sam Fisher?”

“Oh my God. Yes. Or maybe Tom Pang?”

“ _Yes_. Fuck, you’re a genius.”

Lardo closes the door behind them, then wheels around to look at Bitty, who is sitting on his bed, vaguely stunned. She sits on the floor across from him, watching him closely.

“So.”

“So.”

“You OK?”

Bitty sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just … I’m not feeling Screw this year.”

“That’s alright. You don’t have to go, if you don’t want. Or you can go alone. Or you can let them set you up with someone and just see what happens.”

“I know you’re right, but this is clearly really important to them.”

Lardo looks at him seriously. “Obviously they’ll leave it alone if you really want them to, but I think they’re just trying to help you in the only way they know how. We’ve all only got a few more months – they’re doing what they can, while they still can.”

Bitty flops sideways onto his bed and groans. “You’re making it sound so ominous! If y’all disappear from my life after graduation, I’m revoking all friendship rights.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Bitty realises he has a question. “Have you had any successful set-ups?”

Lardo smiles softly. “Yeah, actually. Last year, they set me up with one of Holster’s classmates. She was awesome – we still get coffee sometimes. We danced, we drank, we kissed, we went our separate ways.” She sighs. “It was fun just hanging out with someone new, I guess. Getting to know them. Even if you know it’s not going to go anywhere.”

Bitty hums noncommittedly. 

“Then again, maybe it will go somewhere. You never know.”

“That’s true,” Bitty mumbles. “You never know.”

* * *

**iii. dex**

> **@omgcheckplease  
> ** OK so I’ve got my French textbook open. And the index cards are ready to go. Am I a good student yet? #pleasesayyes #twodaysmore
> 
> **@nrcb10  
> ** @omgcheckplease Midsem? Good luck!
> 
> **@omgcheckplease  
> ** @nrcb10 Just a quiz, but still … I know too many French speakers, they’d never let me live it down.

Bitty throws his phone onto the ground next to him and leans his head back against the wall. He’s been sitting cross-legged on the floor in his room for twenty minutes, willing himself to just pick up his textbook and get on _with it_.

Since then, he’s checked the NHL app for any Falconers news, contemplated changing his Facebook profile picture and planned Nursey’s birthday lunch. All while watching an episode of 30 Rock.

He may not be setting himself up for success.

Bitty sighs and picks up the book, but he hasn’t been looking at it for two minutes when he hears feet running up the stairs. His bedroom door is suddenly flung open and he jumps with a start. “Bitty, we were wondering if – oh, sorry! I didn’t realise you were busy. It’s fine, we can just go to –”

“Chowder, I need you to slow down and start again. What’s going on, honey?”

“Caitlin came over after class and we were just going to grab some of that brisket from last night but someone ate it. I think Ransom took it to the library, he was banging around in the fridge this morning. Anyway, I looked in the freezer and there’s not a whole lot there, so I was wondering if you were planning on cooking. But it looks like you’re not, which is fine, we can just –”

Bitty decides that now is as good as a time as any to gently interrupt this monologue. “Calm down, Christopher,” he says with a smile. “I can cook. These don’t need to be done until tomorrow anyway. It’ll probably be good for me to take a break.” From procrastination, but Chowder doesn’t need to know that.

He follows a chattering Chowder down the stairs, trying to keep up with a seemingly-hilarious story which requires more knowledge of Californian culture than Bitty possesses.

“Chow, are you still talking about that SNL sketch? No-one thinks it’s as funny as you do,” Dex calls from where he’s stretching out his hips against the wall.

“It’s pretty funny,” Farmer pipes up from the couch. “When he brings out the almonds and –”

Chowder snorts, and the two of them collapse into hopeless giggles.

Nursey rolls his eyes fondly from where he’s draped over the armchair. “They’ve been talking about this for two days, Bits. Has he told you about the wicker furniture yet?”

Farmer shrieks with laughter. “The only reason that part is funny, _Derek_ , is because it’s exactly like my aunt’s house. Chris, do you remember that party she had for the fourth? She even had the oranges.”

“Authentic Californian oranges?” Nursey chirps. Farmer and Chowder exchange matching grins.

As adorable as this is, Bitty decides it’s time to get moving. “If y’all want food, you’ll have to show this video to me this after lunch. Speaking of, do you guys want quiche or soup?”

It takes a minute but they’re finally able to reach a consensus. “Dex, you’re on prep duty,” Bitty decides. “No, come on. Nursey helped last night and Chowder has company.”

“I _am_ company,” Dex complains good-naturedly as he lifts himself out of his stretch.

“If you’re on the team, this is your home. Which means you get to help.”

Nursey follows them through to the kitchen, collapsing at the table. Bitty sets Dex up with a board, a knife and a stack of vegetables, before heading over to the stove to brown some beef mince for the taco soup.

After a few minutes of absentmindedly stirring the meat, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out, smiling when he sees that it’s Shitty. “Hello, there! You’re in the kitchen, I’m just making lunch. How are you?”

“Terrible, brah. Do you know what I hate?”

Bitty grins despite himself. “Institutional sexism?”

“Yeah, you know it. But also torts. I fuckin’ hate torts.”

Bitty talks to Shitty enough to know that he’s been struggling with an assignment that is due tomorrow, so he doesn’t worry too much. “I know you do, hon. But you’re going to be just fine. You’ve still got time.”

“It’s due tomorrow and I still don’t understand the question. Why couldn’t it be on tenants’ liability? I can do that shit with my eyes closed.”

“You can do this, I’m sure of it. Have a look at your class notes and go from there.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Shitty whines. 

“Not easy. Just doable. You’ll be fine. Just go write it.”

“You say that, Bits, but –”

“No buts. It’s going to work itself out in the end. Keep pushing.”

Shitty groans, loud and long. “What would I do without you? It’s like having my own personal cheerleader. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“Don’t be silly, honey. Anyway, I’d better go. Take care of yourself, alright? Go have a nap or something before you try to keep writing.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Shitty chirps. “Thanks for caring, man.”

“Love you,” Bitty laughs. “Bye, Shits.”

He hangs up, puts his phone on the counter and turns back to the pot on the stove. The beef is ready to go, so he grabs the vegetables from Dex and throws them in. Stirring it quickly, he seasons and then puts the lid on. Then he sits down at the table across from Nursey and smiles.

Dex turns from the counter and catches Nursey’s eye. “So. That was weird, right?”

“What do you mean?” Bitty asks absentmindedly, one eye on his phone.

“You _love_ him?” Dex laughs.

“So?” Bitty can’t see the problem. “I love my friends. No shame, Dex.”

“It’s totally normal to tell your friends that you love them? Just, on the reg?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not weird?”

Bitty doesn’t like where this is going. “No, it’s not weird. Why would it be weird?”

“OK.” Dex pauses. “If it’s not fuckin’ weird, call someone else and tell them you love them.”

“Oh, for the love of – Yeah, fine. It won’t be weird, I’ll tell you now.” Bitty pauses. “Who do you want me to call in this grand social experiment? And it has to be someone I’m friends with.”

Dex thinks hard. “It can’t be Rans, he’s in the library. Lards is in class. We all knows Holtzy loves you, so that doesn’t count.”

“OK. How’s this?” Hoping to get them off his back, Bitty runs into the living room and grabs Chowder by the hands. “Hey, Chowder? I love you, sweetheart.”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Dex screeches, even as Chowder is telling Bitty that he loves him too. “Chowder loves everyone.”

Nursey, who has been sitting watching everyone with a grin on his face, breaks in quietly. “Hey, Dex? What about Jack?”

Bitty feels the blood drain from his face.

“Are you serious?” Dex says. “Jack has never told anyone he loves them in his _life_.”

“That’s not your point!” Bitty interrupts. “I just have to tell him that I love him and it can’t be weird. And it won’t be. Because we’re friends.”

“Good. Phone him now. Talk for a few minutes and then tell him you love him. If he reacts weirdly, it’s weird.”

“The things I do for you guys,” Bitty mutters. He grabs his phone and hits Jack’s name, hoping that Dex doesn’t notice it’s at the top of his favourite contacts.

“Hello?”

Bitty braces himself and prays that Jack will catch on quickly. “Hi, Jack,” he says as calmly as he can. “It’s Bitty. I’m just calling to say hello. How are you?”

There’s a second’s silence before Jack says anything. When he finally does, Bitty can tell he’s confused. It probably has something to do with the fact that they spoke this morning, and have been texting for a good chunk of the day. And he just introduced himself. “Hi, love. Everything OK? You sound weird.”

Bitty tries to hide his nerves by laughing as if Jack has said something genuinely amusing. “I’m here with a few of the boys. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.”

He does so, puts his phone into the table and rests on his elbows.

“Hey, Jack. Me again. Just thought we’d say hello while we’re making lunch.”

“Hi, Jack,” Dex and Nursey chorus.

“Oh my gosh, are you guys talking to Jack?” There’s a frantic shuffling in the living room before Chowder runs into the kitchen. “Hi, Jack! I’m here too. Oh, it’s me. Chowder. Wait, can you tell by my voice? Sometimes my grandma gets me confused with my cousin. But I guess you don’t know my cousin. Oh, and I’m not saying you’re like my grandma, I just –”

“Stop talking, Chris,” Farmer calls from the couch.

Jack laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, I could tell it was you, Chowder. Hi, guys. What’s going on?”

Bitty decides the safest route is hockey, so he gives a rundown of their practice that morning. Nursey and Dex contribute occasionally, but Chowder just looks happy to listen.

The front door opens and slams. “Bits, I don’t know what I can smell but I’m sure it’s amazing. Is there any left? The D-Hall had freaking cabbage soup _again_ , they must be getting them for a discount. Does anyone actually – Wait, who are you all talking to?”

“How’s it going, Holtzy?” comes Jack’s voice from the phone.

“Jack, hey! All good, man. Did they tell you about Chowder’s shut-out last weekend? It was _incredible_.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to say something. Congratulations, Chowder. It sounds like it was great. Bitty actually called me on the day to tell me all about it.”

“I can’t believe how much you two talk,” Holster comments. “I swear, Jack, you know news before I do.”

Bitty hopes the guys don’t pick up the awkwardness of his laugh. Or Jack’s.

“Anyway…” He needs to wrap this conversation up before one of them cracks. “I can hear that soup bubbling. We’d better go. We all miss you, Jack. Come visit soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best. Let me get back to you, OK? I’m sure we can find a weekend.”

Dex elbows Bitty sharply. He steels himself, then says, as calmly as he can, “Oh. Love you.”

Bitty can tell that Jack is about to say it back, but catches himself before he can give anything away. “See you around, Bits. Bye, guys.”

Bitty heads over to turn off the stove before making his way to the bathroom to wash his hands. His pulse is finally starting to slow, thank goodness.

“See? Not fuckin’ weird,” he hears Nursey whisper triumphantly.

“I just _don’t get it_ ,” Dex mutters.

“Give it up, Poindexter. You were wrong.”

Bitty hears a landed slap and knows that the topic is closed.

* * *

**iv. holster**

Bitty sighs, groans and slams his closet shut. Then he counts to five and opens it again. His train leaves in an hour and he’s having a crisis. A fashion crisis, but a crisis nonetheless.

Normally, he would trust his fashion sense, which is admittedly sound. But it’s their six-month anniversary and the stars had all aligned so they were both free. Jack had made a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in Providence, and Bitty hasn’t seen him for three weeks, and he just really wants to look good.

Which is all very well. Except he’s left it too late and he has to go in half an hour and Lardo isn’t in her room and he doesn’t know the dress code of this stupid restaurant and he can’t find his bowtie and –

“Rans!” he yells into the corridor. “Can I have you, please?”

Apart from Lardo, Ransom is the only member of the Haus that has half a clue about fashion. Chowder thinks formalwear is anything that isn’t teal, and Holster worn the same hoodie twice a week for as long as Bitty has known him.

Bitty hears footsteps clattering down from the attic, and starts up a running commentary to get Ransom up to scratch. “OK, so the mission brief is as follows: formal restaurant, celebration, but not trying too hard. I’m thinking effortless but flawless. You know, it’s Providence, so –”

He spins around to look at Ransom and finds himself facing a muscled chest. “Good lord.” Then he looks up and pauses. “You’re not Ransom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Holster, I need Ransom. Please.”

Holster ignores him completely, crossing to his bed and sitting cross-legged amongst the abandoned coat hangers. “Oh my God, Bits. Do you need fashion advice? I can give fashion advice.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d really rather have Ransom, if that’s OK.”

“What’s the occasion? I’m sensing something fancy, judging by the fact that all of the shirts on this be have buttons.”

“Oh my God, you heathen. Most of my shirts have buttons. We’re not all frat boys like you, I have no idea how you – stop it! They were ironed! _Ransom_!”

Holster, who has been dumping shirts onto the floor as he decides against them, leans back and observes Bitty calmly. “He’s got his headphones on. He probably can’t hear you.”

Bitty pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends an _SOS PLEASE COME AND SAVE ME FROM STRAIGHT WHITE BOY FASHION TIPS_. Not thirty seconds later, Ransom is in his doorway with a concerned expression.

“Don’t worry, Bits. I’ve got you.”

Holster looks mortally wounded. “What did you say to him?”

Ransom ignores Holster completely, crossing over to the closet and peering in. “What’s the occasion, dude?”

“Date night with Jack,” Holster says with a grin. “They’re going to some fancy expensive restaurant.”

Bitty freezes, then forces himself to laugh half-heartedly. “Lord. Can you imagine?”

Holster grins at him from his perch on the bed. “Seriously. Who would ever be enough to distract him from hockey? Maybe the spirit of hockey personified.” He pauses for a second. “Actually … Rans, has he ever dated anyone except for Camilla?”

Ransom pauses his absent-minded tour through Bitty’s coat hangers. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure I even know his type. We got him three excellent Screw dates, but none of them ever stuck.”

“Ah, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I reckon our dear Jacky-Z will be single forever. Whoever he ends up with will need to have the patience of a saint. So many conversations about strategy. And history documentaries.”

“I’m telling him you said that,” Bitty breaks in before they get impossibly side-tracked. “Now, can you please just tell me what to wear to this dinner before I miss my train?”

Ransom shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, man. Remind me where you’re going?”

Bitty pulls out his phone and shows him the restaurant’s website. “It’s in the nice part of town. Like, the _nice_ part of town. Nicer than where Jack lives. I was checking out the menu before, it has quail and stuff. And look at that chandelier!”

“OK, so this is definitely a suit situation. The dark grey one? And maybe leave the top button of your shirt undone. You can always take a tie just in case we’re reading it wrong. Actually, I can lend you my new one – it would really go with that green shirt Holtzy is sitting on.”

“Holster!” Bitty shrieks. “Go iron that shirt for me, you caveman.”

“Just iron it when you get to Providence, bro. It’ll get creased in your bag anyway.”

Bitty, refusing to admit that he could be right, grabs his shirt with a huff and folds it as neatly as he can before shoving it in his duffle when Holster isn’t looking. Ransom runs upstairs to grab the tie and brings it back down, along with his textbook. He settles at Bitty’s desk with a highlighter and gets back to work.

“Can I see the menu?” Holster grabs Bitty’s phone and scrolls through the website, moaning quietly. “Fuck, it all sounds so good. And so fancy! I’m jelly, dude. And the desserts! Oh my God, a lime creme brulee? With a honeycomb ice cream?? Bits, if you don’t get that, I’m disowning you, brah.”

Bitty is basically ignoring him at this point, shoving phone chargers and pairs of socks into his duffle bag at the speed of light. If he doesn’t leave in the next five minutes, he’ll miss his train and that, while not fatal, would be annoying. He runs into the hallway to grab his stuff from the bathroom, and the echo when he drops the bottle of mouthwash almost overpowers the rest of Holster’s call from the bedroom.

“Bits, you just got a text from Jack. He says … _Get here faster, I miss you._ Oh, that’s so sad. Does he not have friends in Providence? The poor thing.”

“Yeah,” Bitty laughs weakly from the bathroom. “The poor thing.”

* * *

**v. shitty**

Bitty is woken up by the buzz of his phone. Again. And again. And again.

 

> **_group message: the crew_ **
> 
> **Shitty:** happy easter sunday to everyone who cares
> 
> **Shitty:** happy cheap candy to everyone else!!
> 
> **Lardo:** Thanks brah
> 
> **Lardo:** Bits if we get you chocolate, will you make those croissants you made last year? They were off the chain
> 
> **Holster:** ok but i forgot to turn my phone onto silent
> 
> **Holster:** thanks for waking me up guys
> 
> **Holster:** happy easter though bud
> 
> **Lardo:** How did you sleep through Ransom getting out of bed though?
> 
> **Lardo:** Woke ME up
> 
> **Shitty:** sorry bro
> 
> **Holster:** went back to sleep
> 
> **Jack:** merci, maman, bonnes paques a toi aussi. je t’aime x
> 
> **Shitty:** jack did you just text us instead of your mom
> 
> **Jack:** oh my god
> 
> **Jack:** i just clicked on the first text, hers only arrived a minute ago
> 
> **Chowder:** don’t be embarrassed about loving your mom, jack!!!
> 
> **Jack:** thanks chris
> 
> **Bitty:** happy easter guys!
> 
> **Bitty:** and yes i will absolutely make those croissants
> 
> **Bitty:** or i could just bring some back with me from providence? i found this really cute little french bakery that has the best baguettes, i guess their pastries will be good too
> 
> **Chowder:** EASTER CHOCOLATE AND GOOD CROISSANTS!!!!!
> 
> **Chowder:** TWO OF THE GREATEST THINGS
> 
> **Dex:** take it down several notches, chow
> 
> **Bitty:** leave him alone
> 
> **Holster:** leave him alone
> 
> **Holster:** lmao jinx

Bitty rolls over in bed and sticks his nose into Jack’s shoulder blade. “You going for a run?” he asks. “Or are you feeling breakfast? I could go French toast.”

“I guess I should go for a jog, at least,” Jack says with a groan. “As much as I’d much rather stay in bed with you.”

“We’ve got loads of time, honey. I’m here until Tuesday, remember?”

“I was talking about how warm I am, actually. Calm down, Bittle.”

Bitty does his best to look disapproving. “You’re not funny, you know that?”

Jack fixes him with his best serious stare. “If you say so. For the record, I’m hilarious in French. Just ask my mom.”

“I’m sure you are, handsome.” Bitty kisses his nose gently before stretching and climbing out of bed. “If you’re going to go out, I might try and get some of my vocab done. So I can appreciate your jokes.”

“And pass your class?”

“And pass my class. I guess that’s important too.”

“You’re a terrible student,” Jack says with a grin.

“Ah, but you love me anyway.”

“I really do. Now, let me go for my run before I lose all motivation.”

Half an hour later, Bitty has finally showered and is at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee, trying to find the motivation to open his textbook. His phone rings as he’s scrolling through Twitter, Shitty’s face looming large on his screen, and he smiles as he swipes the lock screen open. “Hello there!”

“Hi, you.” Shitty sounds tired. “How’s Providence?”

“Sunny! Really warm, actually. I think we’ll have breakfast on the balcony when Jack gets back from his run. I’m going to make French toast. And Jack’s been makin’ noises about getting to the John Brown House, so we might do that.”

“John Brown was a slave trader, Bits.”

“I know he was, but we have to acknowledge and learn from our past. And it looks really beautiful.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Shitty laughs.

“Sometimes.”

“And how’s our boy?”

“Who, Jack? He’s fine. He’s good. Stressed out of his tree with the end of the season, but I’m cooking him a lot of protein.”

Shitty snorts. “So, business as usual?”

“Yeah, just about. How’s law?”

“The pits. It’s the worst. But whatever, I get some electives next year, so that’s something to look forward to. Finally start with the changing lives stuff, instead of the ‘some dipshit stood in the middle of the road and got hit by a car’ stuff.”

They chat about life and Shitty’s new friends (“None of them will ever measure up to the Samwell crew, but there are a few that aren’t the worst”) before there’s an awkward lull in the conversation. Shitty’s clearly working up to something, so Bitty stays silent. It comes out soon enough.

“Bits, I need you to be honest with me. And I can’t quite believe I’m asking this question, it sounds very middle school, but I need to know. Fuck, um … Is Jack seeing someone?”

Bitty is very glad that they’re talking over the phone, so Shitty can’t see the way that he freezes. After a few seconds, he stutters out a, “Oh, um … Why do you ask?”

“He just seems … good. Really happy, you know? Which is awesome, of course it is. But, you know, he’s my best friend and I just … I feel like there’s something he’s not telling me. Which is fine, he’s allowed his secrets. I just – I thought he knew he could tell me anything.”

“I’m sure he knows that, honey. I really don’t know what to say. I’m sure that Jack would have told you anything that there was to tell.”

“Yeah, but you’re spending so much time visiting him. There aren’t any hints around his apartment? No bras under the couch or photos on the fridge or weird phone calls or _anything_?”

Bitty grits his teeth. “Not that I’ve noticed, hon.”

“I just … I love him, you know? And I’ve known basically everything there was to know for, like, five years. Lived in his pocket. Spent holidays with his family and everything. And now I barely see him. I just … want to make sure he’s OK. I worry about him, like, a ridiculous amount. And I know he’s 25, but I just want him to be well.”

Bitty’s almost in tears. He knows why they have to keep this a secret, but it sucks. It just sucks. “I don’t know what to tell you, Shitty. He’s … He’s fine.”

“Just … just promise me you’ll tell me if there’s something I can do, OK? And tell him I miss him.”

“I will,” Bitty whispers. He’s trying to stop himself from sniffing too loudly.

“Thank you. anyway, I guess I’d better go – I’m at my mom’s for Easter, she’s probably wondering where I disappeared to. I love you, bud.”

“Yeah, love you too. Bye, Shits.”

Bitty ends the call and slowly walks over to the couch, staring out the window. He’s not sure how long he sits there, but Jack is suddenly next to him.

“Everything alright, love?”

“I was talking to Shitty before. He asked … He asked if you’re seeing anyone. Because you’re so happy and he can’t tell why. He sounded a little bit heartbroken at the prospect that you were and he didn’t know. I told him I didn’t know, but –”

“Yeah.”

Bitty sighs. “It’s just … I know why we’re keeping this a secret. I really do. And I’ll keep doing it for as long as it takes, because it’s important to you and I love you. But I wish we could tell just some people. I mean, the Samwell crew. They’d just be so happy for us.”

“They really would.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Jack sits up straight and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Let me talk to management about this, OK? You’re right, it’s not fair to them.”

“Wait, are you serious? It’s Easter Sunday, honey.”

Jack laughs. “Alright, I’ll wait until Tuesday. I just – I don’t know if I’m ready to come out publically, but the fact that we have to hide this from everyone? It sucks. It’s time.”

“Oh my _God_ , Jack.”

And they’re both smiling so wide that when Bitty pulls Jack’s face towards his, their teeth click together.

* * *

**vi. the haus**

“So, I talked to Georgia. She’s happy for us to tell our friends as long as we make sure that they know it’s still a secret for now. Who do you want to tell?”

“I wasn’t thinking the entire team,” Bitty mused. “Just the gang? You know, Rans and Holster, Lards, Shitty, the frogs. How does that sound to you?”

“Perfect,” Jack says emphatically. “Fuck, I can’t believe … We’re going to be able to be honest again. Thank _God_. I’m so sorry this has been your life for a year, love. It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s not fair to you either, honey. But it’s the way it has had to be. This is step one for the rest of our lives. Anyway, if we’re going to do this, graduation might be a good time. You’ll be here, and I know that Shitty is coming.”

“Yeah. OK.”

That puts a deadline on everything that hadn’t existed before. Which is exciting.

A month until they can kiss in front of their friends.

A week until they can hold hands in front of their friends.

A day until they can discuss this relationship and how happy it’s made them.

Jack drives up the afternoon before graduation. The Haus is full to bursting – Shitty’s made the trek over, the second-year frogs have been given kegster chores, Ransom and Holster are running around, trying to make sure that this will be the type of party that goes down in history. The windows have all been flung open, and the Haus smells of spring.

When Jack gets inside, there’s the usual flurry of greetings and hugs, only slightly tempered by the poorly-disguised worry in Shitty’s eyes. Bitty tells himself that they’re going to fix it soon, but he still hates being another source of stress in Shitty’s life.

Jack has been working himself up for the conversation that they’ve decided they’re going to have, and Bitty sees the minute Jack crosses a line and needs to get away from the crowds. “I’m just going to go … drop my bag in Bitty’s room. I’m with Bitty, yeah? And Shits, you’re with Lardo?”

“You know it, man. Come back quickly, there’s all sorts of marathons on Food Network this afternoon.”

Bitty follows his boyfriend upstairs, keeping enough distance to not crowd him but close enough that Jack knows he’s there. He shuts the bedroom door behind them, and when he turns around he suddenly has an armful of Jack.

“You’re OK, honey. Do you need a few minutes?”

“No, I think I’m alright. I think I just … I want them to know, I just never realised that we’d have to tell them? That sounds dumb, I know, but –”

“It doesn’t sound dumb, sweetheart. I’m not out to my parents yet, as you well know. It’s a scary conversation to have. In fact … What if we told Shitty first? Would that make you feel better? He’ll be pumped.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Oh my God. We’re doing this. Like, right now.”

Bitty can see that Jack is starting to panic and tries to head him off at the pass. “It’s going to fine, sweetheart. No, it’s going to be _excellent_. Two minutes of stress for a lot of reward. We can tell them that it doesn’t go outside these four walls, but here we can be ourselves. Isn’t that something?”

Jack grimaces. “Yes. It’s a lot of something.” He visibly steels himself. “Alright. Can you go get Shitty before I change my mind?”

Bitty kisses him quickly before heading downstairs, where Shitty and Lardo are smoking and watching Cutthroat Kitchen. He overhears the end of their conversation and can’t help but smile. It’s just so _right_ to have Shitty and Jack back in the Haus, even if it’s just for the weekend.

“Obviously I’d rather have the low table than the gondola, are you kidding me?” Lardo is saying seriously. “I could cook cross-legged, no stress. The gondolier was fucking him around, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess. But you have to remember, you’ve got to be standing up and sitting down the whole time, that’s a timesuck as well.”

“But if you’re in the gondola, you have to take a fuckin’ tour around the kitchen every time you want to stir the pot on the stove. Not worth it.”

“Yes, _but_ –”

Bitty can sense that this conversation will go for as long as they have time, so he interrupts gently. “Um, so … Shitty, can I talk to you upstairs for a second?”

Shitty untangles his legs from Lardo’s with a groan and heaves himself off the couch. “I’ll be missing the dessert challenge, Bits. This had better be good.”

“You’re such an old man,” Lardo chirps. “More action, less complaining, broseph.”

“Shut up, you,” Shitty says with a grin, ruffling her hair. “Pay attention, I want deets when I’m back.”

Bitty smiles weakly at Shitty before leading the way up the stairs and into his room, where Jack is standing at his bookshelf, flicking through their 2015-16 playbook. Jack looks over and smiles, and Bitty knows that they’re making the right decision. He doesn’t want to hide how he feels about this ridiculous man for a second longer.

Shitty follows Bitty into the room and closes the door behind him, looking apprehensive like Bitty has never seen before. “Guys, what’s going on? Jack, please tell me you’re alright. I’ve been so worried, bud.”

“Yeah, Shits, I’m fine.” Jack jumps out of Bitty’s desk chair and wraps Shitty in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Shitty smiles shakily. “So what’s up? Why all the intrigue?”

Jack looks over at Bitty, who raises an eyebrow in response.

“You want to take this one, sweetheart?”

“OK. Wow, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I just, um… Shits, I love you, man. And I’m so sorry that this has taken this long, but –”

“Jack, you’re freaking me the fuck out. Do you have cancer or something?”

“No! Oh my God, man. Bits and I are together. _Dating_. Have been for about a year.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence when Bitty starts to wonder if they’ve made a terrible mistake.

Then, “What the mother _fuck_? Oh my God, are you serious? You two are … oh my God. Are you _serious_? Bits, I asked you if Jack was seeing anyone and you said no! Like, a month ago. What the _fuck_? Oh my God, you guys, I’m so happy for you! Holy _shit_.”

“Yeah, so…”

Before Bitty knows what’s happening, he’s got an armful of Shitty and his shirt is getting wet. “You guys. You _guys_. Oh my God, this is the greatest thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of mankind. You’re going to make such beautiful babies. Bits, I can’t believe you’re making an honest man of this idiot.”

Then he’s suddenly on Jack. “Jack, babe. I cannot believe … You’re dating a guy! And it’s Bitty! Two of my favourite people in the universe are together, I just – I’m so proud of you. _So_ proud. You’ve come so far and – God, I remember when we were frogs together and now you’re all grown up and dating people for a _year_ , and not just any people, my favourite people, and – I’ve been so worried but now I know that you’re OK, you’re more than OK, you’re great, and I just –” He breaks off with a happy sob.

“So … yes.” Jack is clearly overwhelmed by the level of excitement radiating off Shitty, but Bitty guessed it was coming and is just happy. Incandescently, radiantly happy.

Shitty pulls away from Jack and bounces on the balls of his feet. “Wait, who else is sharing in this glorious news? Lards can know, yeah?”

Bitty smiles happily at Jack. “Yeah, we were thinking the crew. Rans, Holtzy, Lards, the frogs. It can’t get much bigger than that, but we’d like them to know.”

“Are you going to tell them now?”

“Yeah, I think so. Everyone’s here, I think. The frogs are in the basement, Rans and Holster are cutting the grass.”

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Shitty runs out of the room and, a minute later, they hear him turning on the megaphone.

“I thought I got rid of that,” Bitty mutters. “Must have been in Lardo’s room.”

“Family meeting! In the living room _right now_ , please and thank you.” Shitty’s voice, loud on the best of days, is window-shattering through the loudspeaker.

Lardo’s “Shits, what the _fuck_?” can be heard from Bitty’s room. Despite his nerves, Bitty grabs Jack’s hand and squeezes it tightly. He knows he needs to be the strong one here.

“Come on, honey. Let’s do this.”

Jack grimaces, but follows him downstairs.

The frogs are piling out of the basement, where they were supposed to be finding the Halloween decorations. Apparently the kegster’s theme is A Funeral For Our College Lives, care of Lardo.

Ransom and Holster come in from the yard, clearly continuing an argument that has been going on for some time. “Bud, of course we have to put it on the playlist. Final kegster and you don’t want the Cha Cha Slide? It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

“It’s going to disturb the flow of the music, though.”

“I honestly don’t care about the fuckin’ flow right now, you and me need to Cha Cha Slide one more time.”

“OK. Fine. But if we put it on the playlist, we’re taking off 5-6-7-8.”

“Absolutely not. You can get rid of Cotton Eye Joe if you have to, but 5-6-7-8 is non-negotiable.”

Shitty lifts the megaphone and sounds the siren. Dex’s shout of “Come the _fuck_ on, Shitty” can almost be heard over its screeching. Chowder covers his ears miserably.

“Everyone sit down now, please. Bitty has something he wants you all to know.”

Lardo sits up on the couch and is quickly joined by Holster, Chowder and Dex. Shitty curls into Ransom’s side on the armchair, with Nursey on the beanbag next to them. Jack looks around awkwardly before perching on the arm of the couch.

Bitty wills his heart to beat slower. Or faster. He can’t tell anymore. “Hi, guys.”

“Hi, Bitty!” Chowder calls. Dex elbows him in the stomach and pretends to ignore Bitty’s disapproval.

“OK. So. There’s no obvious way to say this. Lord, I should have made flashcards or something. Um. OK.”

Shitty interrupts him. “Do you want me to just say it, Bits?”

“Wait, hold the fuck up. _Shitty_ knows the secret family meeting news? I thought we were bros, Bits.” Holster looks genuinely upset.

“Oh, for fuck’s –” Jack jumps up and goes to take Bitty’s hand. “We’re dating. Have been for about a year. That’s the news.”

There is, once again, a second of silence before –

“Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my G–”

“Are you serious?”

“Wait, _how_ long has this been going on?!”

“Oh my _God_ , you guys. Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

“Holy _shit_ , guys. Way to keep a fuckin’ secret.”

“Sweet. Congrats, guys!”

Bitty grabs Jack’s hand and grins up at him. Jack’s smiling back, the happiest he’s looked for a while. They can discuss logistics later. In this minute, they’re surrounded by people who love them and are pleased for them and that’s enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, creds for Sick Jack go to my sister. I kept texting her snippets to check that they weren’t too ridiculous and her only responses were ME or RELATABLE. People like this really exist, y’all.
> 
> Come say hi on [the tumblr dot com](http://murrayhewitt.tumblr.com) if you so desire.


End file.
